It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
by Bane's Desire
Summary: Duo is called to Preventers' Headquarters for a routine search of the building on Christmas Eve. He goes, unhappy about his evening being interrupted and unknowing that at the stroke of midnight, his life will change forever.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from GW or my storytelling.  
Warnings: Slightly religious, angst, m/m relationships

**It Came Upon A Midnight Clear  
Bane's Desire**

Reflexively looking up the stairwell at the sound of the explosion that shook the building above and below me, I knew at a glance that I was looking death in the eyes once again. Seconds before the lights went out, I saw large chunks of debris tumbling down, bouncing off the walls and the metal staircase as broken bits of the building came hurtling down the stairwell towards me. And then suddenly I was plunged into darkness. Drywall, plaster, metal and wood, obliterated from some sort of explosive device, began to rain down from above and continued to fall around me. Blindly, I dove towards the next landing, a good ten stairs below my current position, and cursed out loud as I fell face down, close to the wall as a world of chaos came tumbling after.

They say that when you're about to die that your life flashes before your eyes. For me, it wasn't my entire life, but scenes from that evening that flashed like short clips of coming attractions shown in movie theaters. Each scene was pictured in my mind in a quick, clear, and precise manner.

_**FLASH**_

The guys and I had taken off work early to go to the orphanage that I'd more or less adopted when we'd first moved here after the war. We were all in a good spirits, laughing, happy and eager to spend the afternoon with the kids, helping with the orphanage's Christmas party. There had been food, games, singing and, of course, a visit by Santa bearing gifts and sweets for each child. I'd convinced my friends that a great way to spend the season of good will was to volunteer at the orphanage, that being around children whose natural excitement over the holiday was nothing short of contagious.

We'd gone together in Wufei's car, joking and listening to some Christmas music that was playing softly on the radio as we chatted about the orphanage and the various tasks that would be assigned to us. Once there, the five of us were enthusiastically greeted by both the staff and the excited children. First, we helped dish the food onto the plates and served the forty-three children who lived in the Catholic-run home for parentless children. After the meal was over, the empty plates were removed from the tables and the time for fun and games began. Quatre and Trowa were in charge of the Pin Mary On The Donkey game while Wufei helped the children make a long paper chain of red and green to decorate the hall. Heero, held the bottle of glue protectively as he distributed it in measured amounts to the little ones who worked to stick cotton balls onto a picture of Santa, making him a white, fluffy beard. As for me, I'd been put in charge of setting up the Santa sleigh pinata which was to dangle from a rope on a hook fastened to the ceiling. Everyone in the room knew the paper-mache form was stuffed with toys and candy, and the children's eyes lit up with excitement every time they looked at it as I worked to secure it in place. As part of my job, I dutifully tied the scarf around each child's eyes and put the bat in their hands before playfully spinning them around. I then gave the pinata a push, sending it swinging, a moving target that was harder to hit.

My favorite part of the evening, though, had been the singing. There's just something so pure and heart warming as the sound of children's voices. As they sang sweetly and slightly off tune Away In A Manger, Jingle Bells, the Twelve Days of Christmas as well as other carols of the season, I subtly leaned against Heero, wanting to share the peace I felt at the moment with him. His hand, gently rubbed my back, unnoticed by any prying eyes, letting me know he felt the same way.

_**FLASH**_

We'd left the orphanage around seven that evening and Wufei drove us to Quatre and Trowa's townhouse. It was in the better neighborhoods of the city, with extra security precautions in place to protect Quatre - always at some risk by nut or other trying to get some of his money by any means. It was a place I'd call swanky, and having come from L-2, often calling home a bolt hole in decrepit ruins and spaces behind trash cans, I'd normally feel out of place and uncomfortable in such elegant surroundings, that is if it had belonged to anyone other than our two friends. As usual, the blond mogul welcomed us warmly into their home and worked, without being obvious, to ease the insecurities he knew I still carried within me.

Their chef had prepared a meal for our arrival and the five of us sat down to a wonderful dinner of orange duck and mouth-watering, fancy side dishes with names I couldn't begin to pronounce.

No sooner had we settled down in the living room, in front of the very tree I'd helped my friends pick out, when the phone rang. Quatre brought the phone to me and I was informed by the security team at the office that the weekly bomb threat against the Preventers' building had been received and it was my turn on the roster to lead the search. With a sincere apology, I told the other four that I had to leave.

With Wufei's car keys in hand and Trowa's assurance that he would give the other two a ride home, Heero saw me to the door. As we stood face to face at the front door, he slowly wrapped my new turquoise, cashmere scarf around my neck - a gift from Wufei. He then kissed me soundly and my whole body began to warm up at the pleasurable contact.

"I'll wait up for you," Heero whispered into my ear with his deep, seductive voice. "Then we can open up our gifts for each other." With that tone of voice and the amorous look in his eyes, I knew Heero would be waiting up for more than just his present. I desperately hoped the gift I'd gotten my lover would be something that pleased him. I'd chosen it carefully and with a lot of thought. To be truthful, I wasn't nervous about the giving of my gift, but of Heero's acceptance of it.

**_FLASH_**

I drove to the apartment where Heero and I lived to change into the required uniform. Five minutes later I was walking down the dark and nearly deserted city streets. With my hands shoved deeply into the pockets of my Preventer jacket and my new scarf wrapped snugly around my neck, I made the three-block trek from our apartment towards Preventers' Headquarters. I tried to put aside my resentment at being called in on Christmas Eve for what would probably, hopefully, be another bogus bomb threat that Preventers received at least twice a week from various organizations threatened by us. Damn, why do people think that just because I'm single doesn't necessarily mean I don't have a life?

Not liking the negative feelings and train of thought I'd been pursing, I decided to be more positive, look on the brighter side. It was Christmas, after all, and granted, it was easier for me to get away and conduct the routine search than some other agent who had a family to take care of on the night before Christmas. Feeling just a tad better, I let my thoughts drift back to that afternoon.

Humming the tune of one of the carols I'd heard the children singing earlier as I walked down the dark city street, I made note of the street lamps glowing and gently lighting the low-hanging clouds that threatened to spill snow at any minute. My eyes took in everything: the closed businesses, some brightly decorated with the trappings of the season, the puffs of breath, visible in the freezing temperature, and the occasional homeless person who would step out of the shadows to see who was entering their territory that late on Christmas Eve. Old Limpy Joe, a familiar face of one homeless men who stayed close to the Preventers' building, thinking it more secure than other places in the city, looked up with a surprise expression on his pinched and weathered face as I drew near the vent where the old man was curled up and trying to sleep. Reaching into my pocket, I took out my wallet and handed the man two bills adding up to forty credits.

"Hey, Joe," I greeted the pitiful man in a quiet voice. "It's Christmas, man. Go somewhere and be warm for the night."

Joe, his thin and worn face displaying the harshness of his life from years spent outside, eagerly snatched the bills from my hand and nodded his gratitude a moment before he limped off into the shadows. I sighed at the man's sorry state. "There, but for the grace of God, go I," I whispered to myself, then continued down the street.

_**FLASH**_

The grey-haired, uniformed man who greeted me at the front door of the Preventers' building did so with a cheery smile. "Agent Maxwell," the man I knew simply as Chuck said, nodding his head in greeting. "I see you're the sorry one to draw the short end of the straw tonight."

I shrugged. "Ah, you know how it is, single equates to nothing better to do. How's it going, Chuck? Who else is working tonight?"

"Tomas Escamilla is the lucky schmuck keeping watch with me," the man answered, chuckling with the good humor he usually displayed. It was something that I'd always appreciated when working with the man. "He's on the top floors working down. We pretty much know the routine inside out by now, so if you'd like to take the middle floors, I'll start on this one and work up."

"Sounds like a plan," I replied. In truth, we pretty much followed the same search pattern every time I'd had to come on one of these routine bomb searches. "I'd like to get home as soon as possible," I added, and then an odd thought occurred to me. It seemed like every time I'd come in at night, Chuck was always there. "You got someone waiting at home for you, Chuck?"

"Oh no," answered the older man whom I guessed was old enough to be close to retirement. "My wife passed away three years ago and my son lives in the states. I volunteer for the holidays 'cause I've got nothing better to do."

I felt a moment's guilt because I'd earlier bemoaned that fact that I'd been pulled away from my friends and lover. At least I knew I had a warm bed and welcoming body waiting for me when I finished with the search. Chuck, it seemed, had no one. Maybe I needed to be pulled away from my good life once in a while in order to appreciate what I had and not take it for granted. Looking at the slightly stooped widower, I felt both fortunate and sad at the same time. Those feelings prompted me to speak up.

"Got any plans for Christmas dinner tomorrow?" I asked.

The old man shrugged, and without any trace of self-pity he answered, "I'm going to bake a Cornish game hen and some sweet potatoes, then watch some T.V."

"Tell you what," I said as the two of us began to walk towards the security desk where I'd get a walkie talkie and a flashlight, items that were necessary to the search. "Why don't I give you my address and you can come over to my place tomorrow. My roommate and I are making a dinner for our friends, nothing too fancy mind you, but we'll have plenty of food. You'd be more than welcome."

A spark of surprise and anticipation lit in the older man's eyes. Belying his feelings he replied, "You young people don't want an old man hanging around on the holiday."

"You're only as old as you act, Chuck," I told him with a grin. "We're a pretty interesting group and you'd probably have more stories to tell your co-workers than you could possibly imagine. Come on, the more the merrier," I urged the man. "Besides, what have you got to lose?"

A large grin grew on the smooth-shaved and slightly wrinkled face. "I'll come. Thank you."

The expression of happiness that Chuck gave me had me taking a mental note to speak with Heero about making it a tradition of inviting someone who was all alone on the holidays to join our celebrations.

Accepting the flashlight and communicating device, strapping the belt it fastened to around my waist, I listened as the older man in the dark blue security uniform brought his own walkie talkie up to his face and depressed the button. "Agent Maxwell's joined us, Tomas. What floor are you on?"

A slight click and a bit of static was heard before a deep and smooth Spanish-accented voice replied. "I'm on fourteen."

Lifting my communicator, with a teasing wink to Chuck, I depressed the button. "Hey, Tomas, my man, it's time to wake up from your siesta and get to work."

"Begging your pardon, sir," the Spaniard replied with good humor. "But you were called in nearly an hour ago. I suspect you were having your own siesta. I'll probably cover the top five floor before you finish your first."

I grinned at Chuck as I replied into the walkie talkie. "We'll see about that, Tomas. Just make sure your search is thorough or Une will demote the three of us to janitor duty."

"Roger that," Tomas laughed. "See you on eight."

"Fat chance. I'll see you on eleven."

Clipping the device onto my belt, resting it on my right hip, I looked to the older man beside me. "I'll start on the sixth floor and work up from there," I told him. "Let me know if you find anything."

Chuck nodded. "I've already finished this floor. I'll head up to floor two," he said, then turned and walked down the hall to begin his own search by taking the stairs and leaving me to make my way to the elevator.

_**FLASH**_

It was nearly midnight when I met Tomas on the tenth floor. I've always been amused by the Spaniard. His deep rich voice lent to one's mind the picture of a young, suave and virile man. In reality, Tomas was a short, middle-aged man with a slightly acne-scarred face and a pot-belly. I suppose I shouldn't find the contrast between a Don Juan voice and the real-life man so amusing as most people who meet me are usually stunned by my physical appearance, expecting someone much different to match up with my reputation as a gundam pilot and now as an adept Preventer agent. My youthful, heart-shaped face, easy grin, slim build and rope of long hair are usually the opposite of what people imagine I should look like after they learn of my history in the wars and that I came from L-2. I can't help what people think, but it is kind of funny to see their reactions when we come face to face and their expectations take a major dive.

The search for any evidence of bomb went smoothly and I was grateful to have not found anything out of the ordinary. My nose wrinkled up, however, at the leftover party food from the day before that had been dumped into the trash cans that wouldn't be picked up for another two days by the janitorial service. If it smelled this bad now, I could only imagine what it would smell like then. I met Tomas on the tenth floor and joked around for a few minutes. With our search complete, we separated, each taking separate stairwell down to the main floor. Tomas elected to take the stairs located on northeast side of the building and I took the southwest staircase. Checking my watch as I entered the stairwell on the fourth floor, I noted that it was a minute or so from midnight. The only thing on my mind at that moment was that I hoped Heero was still up by the time I got home.

I'd just left the third floor landing when the sound of explosions going off resounded above and below me and violently shook the entire building, including the metal stairs I was standing on, knocking me to my feet. I looked to the floors above me just in time to see debris, large and small, falling down the stairwell towards me just as the lights blinked out. I dove towards the nearest landing below, keeping as close to the outside wall as I could as the all the shit from above and half the building came crashing down around me. And just after my day flashed before my eyes, I was struck by something heavy and knew no more.

**_Oooooooooo_**

I awoke in terrible pain and was disoriented, coughing dry dust from my mouth and lungs. A flash of memory came to me of the explosions going off and I noted the sounds of more debris trickling down from above. Not hearing any sirens or the sounds of voices calling out, I guessed I hadn't been out for more than a few minutes. My eyes were filled with grit, so I kept them closed and tried to move my hands up in order to wipe them clean. The pain in my left arm left me with no doubt that it was badly broken, and I realized, once I tried to move, that I was pinned down. Further assessment told me that I was lying at an angle with my face and chest resting on the cold metal landing that I'd aimed for seconds before being hit by the falling debris. I thought there might be some substantial weight resting on my lower back and legs, but I wasn't able to assess any damage there because of an absence of feeling below my waist - and that scared me more than anything. Cautiously testing my right hand pinned between the wall and my right side, I was relieved when I was able to move it. The top of it scraped painfully against the rough-textured wall of the building as I struggled to squeeze it through the tight space between the wall's surface, my side and then up to my face. I was relieved when I was finally able to rub my eyes to try and get the dust and grit out of them. I was surprised to find my fingers, cheeks and eyes were wet. I told myself it was because my tear ducts had been triggered by the grit in my eyes to begin a natural cleansing process... attempting to convince myself that the wetness wasn't because I'd been crying. "Boys don't cry," I mumbled to myself, tasting dust and dirt in my mouth that I immediately tried spitting out.

Feeling a bit apprehensive, I cautiously blinked my eyes open, only to be met with complete darkness. Oh God, I'm blind, I thought, panicking. Using my right hand I examined my head, well, as well as I could under the circumstances. The fingers of my right hand searched the area around my eyes and face before combing them through my thick hair to do the same type of search on my scalp. Although I found some superficial gashes, sticky with warm blood, I only found evidence of a lump where I'd been hit and momentarily knocked unconscious. I didn't think that it was severe enough that it would have affected my eyesight. "It's just the absence of light," I told himself, remembering the power had gone out after the explosion. My breath caught in my chest at the relief I felt after having come to that conclusion.

Forcing myself to calm down, I closed my eyes again to let my tear ducts finish their cleansing job. Meanwhile, I used my right hand to explore the immediate area around my head and shoulders, letting my sense of touch do the seeing for me. Unfortunately, I wasn't pleased at all with what they were finding. Not three inches from my head was a large chunk of wall that extended above me. With my right side pinned to the wall and my left held in place by something rough and heavy, I could only envision that I was encased in the fallen debris, trapped as if I were in a cold cement coffin.

I'd never experienced many phobias before, and certainly not claustrophobia, but it was that very fear that suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. I was injured and buried alive in the stairwell of the bomb-demolished building. I felt trapped, helpless, and found it hard to catch my breath as a feeling of panic hit me that was stronger than anything I'd experienced before. Lifting my head, I began shouting for all I was worth, "Help!" I yelled, but my lungs and voice seemed too inadequate to carry my urgent plea any further than my tomb. I tried several more times but to no avail; there was no noticeable reply.

Laying my head back down, I forced myself to calm down and slowly realized that the only sounds I could hear was my own ragged breathing and the rapid beat of my heart pumping way too fast. "Heero," I whispered my lover's name like a prayer and envisioned him in my mind, picturing him, the other half of my soul, waiting for me at home. My heart ached at the mental picture of him sitting in bed, anticipating my stepping through the door and knowing he might be waiting forever for me to come home. Again my eyes filled with moisture and this time I couldn't fool myself into thinking that it had anything to do with cleansing. "Oh, God. Not on Christmas."

I wasn't what people would call a religious man, but I retained a respect for the God that Father Maxwell and Sister Helen had spoken of with love and affection. When times had been at their worst, when all help and comfort were absent, I remembered them and prayed as they'd often shown me by their example. Now, I decided, was one of those desperate times when prayer might be my only hope.

Squeezing my moist eyes tightly shut, I tried to calm myself further and to think of the words that might appeal to deity. Taking in a deep, painful breath, the words of my heart came to my lips. "God of all, hear me pray," I began, saying the words I'd been taught as a child in an orphanage so long ago, my voice barely a hoarse whisper. "Help me, please," I begged earnestly. "I know I probably don't deserve your help, but I'm asking, please don't let me die like this, alone and on Christmas Eve. I'm not asking this just for myself, but for someone who means more to me than anything else in my life. Is it a sin to ask for a miracle? How about a Christmas miracle? Ya see, if I die tonight, Christmas will always be a painful reminder to him as well as to our friends that I was taken from them and in such a senseless way. You know about us, right? What we've all been through? We're all still trying to heal from the wars, so I'm asking you to please, don't let them have to lose someone else just as they're finding some happiness. Please," I pleaded fervently with all my heart, "I've tried to be a good man. Doesn't that count for something?"

In the distance, I heard the sound of sirens approaching just as a trickle of water began to fall over the debris above me. I guessed it was water from the sprinkler systems from the floors above, which meant there was a fire somewhere. Concentrating again, I resumed my talk with The Almighty. "I hear the cavalry coming. Thanks for that. I just hope you'll let them find me in time." I stopped short as my body began shaking, but whether it was from shock or the cold I wasn't sure as either one was a viable reason. The water trickling down from above me was quickly saturating my jacket, the new scarf around my neck and clothing underneath. The freezing temperature outside had also found its way into the damaged building and didn't help my situation at all. I listlessly wondered if things could get worse.

"Sister Helen always said never try to bargain with God," I continued with my prayer. "She said you didn't work that way. Well, I'm not sure I have anything to bargain with anyway. She also said to put my trust in you, and that's really hard, ya know? I've pretty much depended on myself and my comrades. Trust is something I've learned is earned. Maybe if I survive this it'll be a starting point. I'm not afraid for me, death has always been like my shadow, but I think I've always been afraid of dying alone. If Heero can't be here, please, help not to be alone."

The sirens seemed much closer now and I guessed they were close to the outside the building. If only I could get word of my position to the rescue workers, they might be able to save me before I froze to death.

Then I remembered my walkie talkie. I forced my free hand past the debris surrounding me and pushed it down towards my waist. The angle was awkward but I managed to find the familiar communicating box that was firmly compressed between my right hip and the mass of debris holding me in place. The belt that held the communicating device was just below my reach, so I had to wiggle around and contort myself a bit in order to dislodge the small box. Despite the cold surrounding me, I was sweating from pain and exertion by the time I finally pulled the device free. With a little more work, I managed to get it up to my face. As my hands moved over the surface of the walkie talkie, I felt my hopes plunge at its condition. It was severely crushed. Despite that fact, I continued to search for and found the button on the side of it and depressed it with the hope that it might work.

"Can anyone hear me?" I asked. My voice was raspy and carried the very real sound of desperation into the receiving end of the sorry little box. "Chuck? Tomas? Are you guys alright?" I had to pause then in order to cough and gasped at the burning in my lungs.

Lifting my thumb off the button, I listened carefully for any clue that someone, anyone, had picked up my message. But there was nothing. Not even a crackle of static. I shook the box in my hand, hoping to make it work by doing so. "God, please, I could use a little divine intervention at this point."

I lay my head back down, too weary and now too cold to do much more than see who would win the race to claim me, death or the rescue team that was bound to find me sooner or later. My body was violently trembling, so I put my face in the crook of my arm and desperately fought from giving into my fears. "Heero," I whispered again in a choked voice. "I'm sorry." I could only imagine what my lover might feel when he finally opened up his Christmas gift to find the titanium ring I'd purchased with the intention of asking him to make our relationship legal, to officially become my life partner. The inscription I'd had set inside the band simply stated, "I'll love you forever." Whether I lived or died this night, my words would still be true.

The ache I felt in my heart had nothing to do my current physical distress, but rather the idea of leaving Heero alone. My lover isn't open to many people, just our other three friends, our former comrades. But after two wars, some time to heal and earning his trust, he'd opened up and admitted his own deep feelings for me moments after I'd drummed up the courage to tell him that I'd loved him since the moment we'd met. We'd tried to follow everyone's advice and had every intention of taking our relationship slowly, to make sure it was going to work before we became physically intimate. But our hearts and bodies had a different course plotted out, and we'd never regretted the night of our second date when we'd ended up in Heero's bed together. Out first attempt at sex was a bit awkward and not exactly perfect, as most first times prove to be, but it had meant the world to the both of us. I gave up my apartment the next day and moved in with my new and only lover.

Warm tears warmed my cheeks at that memory before the frigid air began to freeze them to my face. Determined that if I was going to die tonight, I'd go with a smile on my face, I replayed in my mind mine and Heero's first night together. And just as I began to lose the fight to stay conscious, the radio in my hand crackled to life.

_**TBC before Christmas**_


	2. With Angels Bending Near the Earth

_**It Came Upon The Midnight Clear  
By: Bane's Desire  
Part 2 - With Angels Bending Near the Earth**_

Just as I began to lose the fight to stay conscious, the radio in my hand crackled to life.

Disbelieving, I nevertheless depressed the side button. "Can anyone hear me?" I asked, alarmed at how weak my voice sounded especially when I felt so desperate for someone to answer. "If anyone can pick up this frequency, I'm Preventer Agent Duo Maxwell, needing assistance. I'm trapped in the south stairwell of the Preventer building on the landing half way up to the third floor. I'm pinned under debris and need medical assistance. Please acknowledge if you can hear me."

I forced myself to release the button, and the faint sounds of static filled the entrapped space that had become my prison. "Please," I pleaded to anyone, including the God I'd prayed to earlier. Then, just as I was about to succumb to a wave of despair and the cold that was seeping into my bones, a faint, familiar voice came over the blessed walkie talkie.

"Agent Maxwell?"

Thank you God, it was Chuck's voice. Depressing the button again, almost choking on a sob of relief, I answered. "Yeah, it's me, Chuck. You alright? What's your status?"

"I'm... alright," came the faint, almost confused sounding reply. "I seem to be... trapped under debris on the first floor."

Relieved at hearing the other man's voice, I found enough energy to continue talking though I was cold enough now that my teeth had begun to chatter. Honestly, I don't know when I've felt as miserable. "Have you h..heard from Tomas? What the h..hell happened?"

At that moment, distant, muffled yet recognizable sounds of gunfire could be heard. There was gunplay going on outside the ruined Preventers' headquarters. "Do you hear that, Chuck? What the h...hell's goin' on?"

There was a moment's pause before the older man's voice came back to me, sounding stronger and more certain. "We were hit by RPG's firing from outside all four corners of the building. I caught a glimpse of the one that came through the front window. I think two grenades hit the main floor and two were aimed at the floors above. The attackers are probably the ones outside making sure the rescue crews know who's in control. How badly are you hurt?"

"B..b..bad enough that I... I probably w..w..won't be cooking tomorrow," I replied, my teeth chattering loudly. "Sorry about that. H..h..ow about a rain check on that holiday meal?"

"Don't worry about it, Agent Maxwell. But thank you for the invite. It was very kind of you."

Only a moment passed before I felt the need to hear the other man's voice again. "I'm freezing to d...d..death here, Chuck. If they don't find me soon, I'm gonna be a human popsicle." I was trying for some levity, but it was hard under the circumstances, especially when hearing the rapid gunfire out in the street. I wondered if Heero was there yet. Living so close to headquarters he undoubtedly heard the explosions and probably thought the worst. I'd often allayed Heero's fears when I was about to do something risky by telling him I'd cheated Death so often that I doubted he could find me.

How I wished that were true tonight.

"They'll get there. Don't worry. You just have to hold on and have faith.""That's never b..been one of my ssss....trong points," I confessed. "Do you believe in God, Chuck?"

There was a pause before the older man's voice came over the damaged communicator soft but clear. "Yes, now more than ever."

I noted, though somewhat muzzily, that the distant gunfire was now more sporadic and that a deep lassitude was beginning to overtake me. "Chuck?" I asked, barely conscious.

"Don't go to sleep, Agent Maxwell, there are men entering the building. It won't be long now."

"Didn't I ask you t...to call me D...Duo?"

"Yes, you did," the older man answered, affection in his voice.

"If I don't make it, c..can you give a message to my partner, Heero Yuy?"

"Agent Yuy?"

"That's him," I replied, a small smile growing on my face as a clear picture of my dark, crazy-haired lover came to mind. "Tell him to open his gift, and that I meant to make things legal between us. Tell him every word inscribed on the ring is from my heart and that my last thoughts were of him."

There was a long moment of silence that began to frighten me. Had I repulsed the other man by admitting my love for another male? Would he carry my message to Heero? "Chuck, y..y.. you still there, buddy?"

"I'm here, Duo," the older man's voice answered calmly. "But I think I'd feel more comfortable if you gave Agent Yuy that message yourself."

"I'm trying, m..m..an. But just in c..c..case, could you tell him? It's important."

"I'll try," the older man answered, sounding tentative. "Would you consider returning the favor? Carry a message to my son?"

"Ssssure."

"Tell him I'm proud of him, that his wife, Ann, was the best decision he could have ever made and that I'll be looking out for Tim and Tia."

"Tim and T...t..Tia."

Huddling into my misery, I could hear the soft tones of Chuck's voice as he continued to talk, reassuring me that I wasn't all alone in what was probably the last moments of my life. It was becoming just too difficult to understand the meaning of the other man's words but I clung to the sound of his voice as my only source of comfort. Then something occurred to me that roused me enough from my stupor to try speaking again.

"Hey, Ch..Chuck? What's your last name?"

The older man chuckled. "Weber. I'm Charles Weber."

"Thanks, Charles Weber. You might not believe it, but you're a godsend."

"Hold on, kid, help's almost there," Chuck admonished, then his tone of voice changed as he asked, "Is there anything you can use to catch the attention of the rescue team? Have you got your flashlight nearby?"

It was hard to think and even harder to move my near-frozen limb, but I managed to search a small area around me. I came up with nothing but bits of plaster. "I can't find it," I told the other man, feeling panic rising in me once more. Then suddenly there was a change in the atmosphere around me and I felt as if someone was close and leaning over me. In the next instant a bright light filled my vision and I shut my eyes to shield them against the pain the suddenness of it brought. I forced my eyes back open and caught a glimpse of a less-than- clean hand holding a flashlight inches from my face. Shifting my gaze upward, above the circle of light, I recognized a familiar, craggy, bearded face.

"Hey, Joe. You're a ssssight for sore eyes, man. C..c..can you get the search team, show 'em where I am?" I asked in a weak, whispered voice, addressing the homeless man I'd given the forty credits to earlier that night. Limpy Joe nodded his scraggily, gray-haired head then leaned forward until I felt the flashlight put into the palm of my hand. When I looked again, he was gone, leaving me with a little more hope of being found by my rescuers before it was too late. I set the flashlight down a moment and grabbed up the walkie-talkie. " I've got it," I gasped, informing Chuck, "the flashlight, and it w...works."

"Relax now," the older security guard said, his voice soft and soothing, strangely comforting me like a fuzzy warm blanket. "I can hear them nearby now. Soon we'll both be free."

I really didn't know if I was going to be found in time, but I was grateful for the older man's optimism. As the cold, pain and weariness began to overwhelm me, I felt myself slipping into the darkness that I was sure would claim me forever. "Remember to tell Heero, Chuck, and Merry Christmas," I managed to whisper to the other man, imagining that I could hear the sound of debris being shifted in the distance and the frantic voice of my lover, desperately calling my name as I felt the cold arms of death begin to encompass me.

Oooooooooo

beep....beep....beep....

Death was a cold bitch, I decided upon rousing from the dark, dreamless place that had enveloped me, and came with an irritating noise that could only exist with the intent of tormenting lost souls. The smell, too, was disconcerting, like the antiseptic smell of a clinic or hospital. Damn, did I go to hell, just as I'd always predicted?

The rhythmic beeping continued to disturb me, slowly rousing me further from the comforting darkness I'd known and urged me towards the edge of consciousness. I became aware of the fact that I hurt everywhere, and that my mouth was as dry as the Sahara Desert and tasted something like I'd imagined the inside of a ratty old tennis shoe would. The smell of disinfectant grew stronger and I knew, even without opening my eyes, that I wasn't dead.

I was alive and, apparently, had cheated death once again.

I didn't have the energy to move my head, so I settled for slowly opening my eye lids, squinting at the light even though it appeared to be filtered by the curtains that were behind the person sitting in the chair next to the bed. Even with my vision blurred, I knew that the blurred figure I was looking at was Heero, who had no doubt been keeping watch over me as I slept.

The longer my gaze lingered on the object of all my affections, the more focused my eyes became. He was sitting with one blue jean clad leg crossed over his knee with a magazine resting in his lap and his head bowed below his slouched shoulders. My lover appeared to be asleep. Focused on the slumbering man, a welling of emotion rose up within me, and the man in the chair blurred completely as tears of gratitude filled my eyes. I tried to speak, feeling desperate for Heero to open his eyes and look at me, to speak to me, proving that I really had survived the bombing, but my tongue was thick and dry and all that came out was a faint croak. That slight sound proved to be enough to awaken the once perfect soldier with a jerk. The dark-brown head shot up and penetrating blue eyes opened and focused solely on me, then widened.

"Duo," Heero whispered, then launched himself out of his chair and onto the bed where he brought his upper body as close to mine as he possibly could without actually touching any part of me. His cautious movements demonstrated that he was well aware of the many injuries I'd sustained. "You're okay," the Japanese teen whispered and his deep blue eyes pooled with unshed tears as he gazed into my eyes mere inches below him. "I thought you'd been taken from me, Duo," he said in a quiet voice that was uncommonly shaky with emotion.

Drink. Knowing he could read my lips, I mouthed the word, unable to find my voice.

Heero moved quickly, and a moment later a straw was put to my lips and I sucked in the tepid water that tasted as if it had stayed in old metal pipes for too long. I managed three swallows before I choked, and the coughing brought every one of my painful injuries to my attention. Dying, I decided, had to be easier than surviving a building falling down on you.

Heero must have panicked, because a moment later a nurse was at my bedside, just as my coughing began to subside and I gasped for air.

"Easy, Mr. Maxwell," the older Hispanic woman said with a soothing, slightly accented voice. "Breath deeply and it will pass."

I closed his eyes and concentrated on following the woman's instructions and felt moisture leaking from my eyes. I honestly didn't know if the tears were caused by the excruciating pain I'd just experienced or if they were a result of my choking. I sure as hell didn't want them to be there because I was crying.

As the coughing eased off, I re-opened my eyes to see the dark-haired, brown-skinned woman with a freaky-white smile gazing down at me. "Nice to see you awake, Mr Maxwell. I'm Daisy, your evening nurse." The straw was put back to my lips. "Now let's try this again but much more slowly this time." I did as I was told, yet much more wary this time of going too fast.

"There," the woman smiled, pleased I hadn't choked again. "Now if you'll just lay still, I'm going to take your vitals."

I rolled my eyes, wondering where the woman thought I was going to go, then turned my head to locate Heero. I spotted him in the corner of the room, hunched over something. He shifted slightly and I realized he was on the phone and speaking very softly. I decided he was probably calling our friends to tell them I'd regained consciousness.

For the first time since waking, I focused my attention on my body and the pain that radiated from almost every part of it. I noticed straight off, by both sight and pain, that my right arm was in a cast and had been propped up on several pillows. Gazing further down my body, my breath caught in my throat, sounding like a gasp as I observed the damage I found there; both of my legs were elevated and in casts, from my ankles to my upper thighs. "My legs!" I choked out in a hoarse voice caused by a horribly sore throat and severe weakness.

"They've both suffered multiple fractures from the falling debris, as did your arm. With time and therapy you're going to be fine," the nurse quickly assured me in a slightly detached manner after having heard those two words I'd uttered in shock. "You were operated on when you first arrived and your doctor should be coming by later as he makes his evening rounds. He'll be happy to answer all your questions for you then." She spoke so quickly and with the slight accent and my dulled state of mind, I had a hard time following what she was saying.

"Other injuries?" I strained to ask.

"You lost a lot of blood and more or less drained our supply of your blood type the day you were brought in," she replied. "They had to take out your spleen, and your kidneys and liver were bruised, so you'll be staying on the catheter until they recover."

"Status?"

"Guarded but improving." Heero stated as he came back to the bed and to my side. He wore an encouraging smile on his face but his eyes were surrounded by dark circles, signs of exhaustion. The red-rims of those mesmerizing orbs, had to have been caused by either sleeplessness or crying, and they were looking at me, filled with worry and telling me just how precarious my situation had been.

"Cheated that bastard Death again, didn't I?" I joked weakly, but it fell flat as Heero's smile faded. "Not that he didn't give it a good try," I added.

Heero stood by my bedside and remained silent as Daisy took my temperature and blood pressure. My lover's eyes followed every move the woman made, but for some odd reason his stare, which had unnerved many a suspect and perpetrator, didn't seem to faze the nurse at all.

"I'll be bringing in some dinner for you, Mr. Maxwell," Daisy said as she rolled up the blood pressure cuff. "Do you feel up to eating something?"

"Not hungry, but I'll try," I answered, even as I felt the pull of sleep reeling me in and my heavy eyelids began to droop.

"See if you can keep him awake," I heard the woman say, and realized she was talking to Heero. "Have you had anything to eat today, Mr. Yuy?" No sound came from Heero, and I was curious enough to hear his answer that I forced my eyes open once again.

Looking up, I saw Heero standing close to my side. "You okay?" I managed to ask as I fought the need to go to sleep.

Heero took my uninjured hand into his own and brought it to his lips, reverently brushing them against the back of my hand. "Don't worry about me," he answered. "Just concentrate on getting better."

"Don't neglect yourself." I knew only too well how he could put everything out of his mind, even his health, while he focused his attention on something and made it his top priority. Heero had been known to neglect eating, drinking fluids and even the pain of a wound if he was preoccupied. I didn't doubt for a moment that I'd been the focus of his attention from the minute my lover had heard the explosion that hit the Preventer building.

Heero shrugged off my weak order and dismissed the subject by pulling his chair closer to the bed and sitting on it, never letting go of my hand.

"How long?" I asked , barely audible as the need to sleep became overwhelming.

"A week."

That opened my eyes again. "A whole week?" I croaked.

"It's new Year's Eve."

"Long week?"

" The longest ever," Heero said, and everything about him, his posture, his eyes and slack, pale face spoke loudly of his exhaustion.

"Chuck give you my message? Did you open your Christmas gift from me?"

"Chuck?" Heero asked, looking confused.

"Yeah, Chuck, the night security guard." I frowned, trying to remember something, but my mind was too sluggish with the drugs coursing through my system. "Told me his last name, but can't quite remember it. Think it began with a W. Webster maybe, somethin' like that."

"Charles Weber," Heero supplied, leaning over so that his fingers could comb through my long fringe of hair, making it harder than ever for me to stay awake.

"Yeah, that's it." I smiled, my eyelids lowering once again.

"He wasn't able to deliver any message, Duo, and I didn't open your gift. I really haven't been home since the attack on headquarters."

Somehow I didn't find that surprising in the least. If our places had been reversed, I wouldn't have left Heero's side either, come hell or high water. "Did you find Tomas?"

Heero nodded, looking sad. "We found him, or rather remnants of him on the third floor. It looked as if both security guards were within feet of the grenade's impact.

That got my attention and I forced my eyes open again. "Is Chuck alright? He sounded fine over the radio."

The space between Heero's eyebrows became creased as his frown deepened. "They're both dead, Duo," he replied regretfully, respecting the dead.

The ache in my heart joined the physical pain I was suffering. "Damn," I whispered, my voice unsteady. "Invited Chuck to Christmas dinner. Guess he won't be taking me up on the rain check." My voice cracked as I struggled to contain my emotions and sorrow for the older man that I'd barely known who, despite that fact, had helped me through my darkest hour. I figured he and Tomas were yet two more innocent lives lost to some twisted person or organization's bid for power or revenge. With my eyes closing once more, giving in to my body's demand for rest, I felt an overwhelming need to tell my lover of the comfort the older security guard had given me. "I thought I was going to die alone, Heero."

"I know," came the sympathetic reply as the Japanese man's fingers continued to gently comb through my hair.

I wanted to tell him how Chuck had been the voice of comfort as his own life ebbed away, but I just didn't have the energy. I only heard Heero's voice speaking soft, comforting words that I could no longer understand as I was swept away into a troubling, restless sleep.

After that first waking, I woke sporadically and for short periods of time. Sometimes it appeared to be daytime and other times night, but always there was Heero at my bedside, looking more worn and weary with each waking. I had no concept of time, but I did note a difference when at last I woke to find I was more lucid and not quite as exhausted as I had been. I opened his eyes to find the room bright with filtered, natural sunshine, streaming through the partially opened curtains and an unexpected sight next to my bed. Quatre was sitting in the chair that had previously had only been occupied by Heero. His golden-haired head was lowered and he appeared to be reading something.

As if sensing a change in the room, my blond friend's head lifted and his eyes widened, sparkling with delight at seeing I was awake. "Good afternoon, Duo," Quatre said with a smile on his lips. "I can't even begin to tell you how good it is to see you again."

I offered a smile in return even as my eyes began to blur, silently telling my wonderful friend how good it was to see him in return.

"Shh. It's alright, Duo. Everything is going to be okay." And even as the image of the other man blurred, I could see Quatre was struggling to hold back his own tears as he moved closer to me and began to comb his fingers through the hair near my face.

"Heero?" My croaking voice was barely audible and I licked my lips trying to get some moisture on them. Quatre moved away for a moment and then a straw was placed to my lips and I gratefully sucked the cool water into my parched mouth and throat.

"He was about to collapse so we took matters into our own hands," my friend informed me as I continued to drink. "He's at your place with Trowa and Wufei who are more or less forcing him to eat and sleep." The blond took the straw and cup away when I turned my head, indicating I'd had enough. He set it down on the bedside table then turned back to me, taking up my uninjured hand and looking earnestly into my eyes. "That was just too close, Duo. We almost lost you."

I nodded, not knowing what to say. 'I'm sorry' just didn't seem to fit the situation and it wasn't enough for all the worry I'd unintentionally put my friends through.

"When you're better," the blond continued, taking on a more grave expression, "I want to have a serious discussion with you and Heero about a job change. I honestly don't think my heart can stand any more work-related incidents. Wufei, Trowa and I have already given our notice to Une."

"You're quitting?" I asked, shocked at the idea.

"Not immediately, but we're definitely phasing ourselves out of the organization, but not until we get those responsible for the bombing." A dangerous glint entered the blue-green eyes. "No one hurts a member of our family and gets away with it," he said, his words holding a steely-cold promise of retribution.

The nurse, a man I couldn't recall with any clarity, entered the room and the whole business of taking my vitals and turning my body to prevent bedsores took roughly ten minutes. A tray of food was brought in and both the nurse, Gary, and Quatre urged me to eat some of it. I tried, but found it just wasn't very appetizing and hard to eat lying on my side.

When at last the tray was cleared away, I felt physically worn out from the simple task of eating, but not sleepy enough to fall back to sleep. Quatre resumed his seat and began filling the silence within the private room. "You had a visitor yesterday," the blond began in a conversational tone. "You recall Charles Weber, the security guard?"

The memory of Heero telling me the other man was dead came back to me now. "Yeah, I remember."

"It was his son. Naturally, he came to town to make arrangements for the funeral, which took place several days ago. He came here by hoping to have a word with you since you were the last person to speak to his father. If you're feeling up to it, would you mind if he came by tomorrow? He gave me a number where he can be reached and I told him I'd call after you woke up."

"Yeah, I guess that would be okay."

"Can I get you anything?"

Turning to look at my friend, I quietly asked. "Can we call and see if Heero's awake?"

The blond smiled knowingly and reached to his belt where he had his cell phone. He opened it then abruptly, closed it. "Sorry, I forgot about the rule of not using cell phones in hospitals. I'll have to use the room's phone." He moved to the other side of the bed and I listened as he pushed the appropriate numbers. Eavesdropping on the one-sided conversation, I was able to ascertain that Heero was sound asleep and that Trowa didn't think he'd wake up until morning.

"How urgently do you need to speak with him, Duo?" Quatre asked.

"As soon as he wakes up. But there's no need to disturb him. He looked really tired."

Quatre relayed the message and reported to Trowa what had happened from the minute he'd awakened, then whispered an endearment and said goodbye. The room fell silent once again.

"I've been reading a book, Duo. It's a colony murder mystery called The Shadows Whisper. Would you like me to read it out loud?"

Deciding that listening would take less energy than talking, I nodded my head. Quatre smiled and picked up the book he'd set down earlier and proceeded to read. His soft voice, speaking in an easy, rhythmic pattern, had me back to sleep in a matter of minutes.

Heero showed up in my room before the sun had risen the next morning and immediately sent a rumpled and slightly grumpy Quatre home to Trowa. After the nurse did her thing, the two of us finally had a moment alone.

"How are you?" I asked my lover, glad to see him looking less haggard and slightly more rested.

"Better. How about you?"

"Better," I parroted, managing a slight grin.

After checking the door to see that no hospital personnel were chomping at the bit to get in, Heero leaned over the guard rail and held my face in his hands as he gently kissed my slightly dry and chapped lips. As he pulled back, we paused to look into each other's eyes, only inches apart, expressing in one look the words we couldn't say in a semi-public place.

"I can't wait to go home," I told Heero. "Did the doctor say when that's possible?"

"He said something about a couple of days after your kidneys and liver began functioning, which, I was told yesterday, they are."

"So I'm really all right?" There was still a lingering fear within me that I wasn't going to be well again, but now taking fear's place was a feeling of hope that I was actually going to survive.

"Yes. You're going to be fine."

I wondered again why I was so emotional as my eyes filled up with moisture. "Shh," Heero soothed, even as his own eyes became bright.

"I prayed for a Christmas miracle, Heero," I told my lover. "I know I've probably had my fill of miraculous survivals already, having come through all I have, but I didn't want to die on Christmas, leaving you alone and with a bad memory every time the holiday came around."

"Then I'll stop at the chapel and light a candle for the both of us and thank your God."

Heero hadn't been exposed to any type of religion growing up, but he'd listened with interest to my stories of the Maxwell Orphanage and watched my own struggle to comprehend and believe in an all-knowing and powerful deity that allowed men to make mistakes and sometimes even be evil. At times I still found it hard to fathom such a concept, but I became more of a believer after beating the odds and surviving quite a few dangerous situations, despite the fact that I should have died several times over. Heero didn't necessarily share my beliefs, but he did respect them. He more or less took on the belief of an agnostic instead of an atheist, waiting for some definite sort of proof of the existence of a supreme being. As far as I was concerned, surviving all that I had was proof enough for me to believe that someone was watching out for me. Lighting a candle in the hospital chapel represented Heero's own way to show his gratitude that I'd managed to survive once again.

Taking the lone chair, Heero sat and immediately took up my undamaged hand. "Brian Weber is coming by this morning. Quatre talked to him last night and arranged for him to be here by nine thirty. If you're not up to it, I'll call and cancel."

"No, I'd like to talk to him. His dad helped me and I would like to tell him that."

The T.V. fastened high on the wall was turned on and the two of us watched the early morning news. Breakfast was served and it was a bit more appetizing than the last meal I'd been offered, though it wasn't nearly hot enough.

Nine thirty came quickly, and a few minutes after that a soft knock sounded at the open door. A man who appeared to be in his late thirties came in and introduced himself as Brian Weber. Our introductions were made and Heero stood from the chair to offer it to my visitor. Mr. Weber took it, with thanks, then addressed me.

"I know that thinking back on the night of the bombing might be traumatic for you, Mr. Maxwell, but if you wouldn't mind, I wondered if you could tell me about the last minutes of my dad's life, that is if you can remember."

I then told the grieving man of how I'd spoken to Chuck after arriving at Preventers for the bomb search, of inviting his father to dinner the next day and of his acceptance. I spoke to him of my impressions of the older man, that Chuck had been kind and helpful, especially after all hell had broken loose and we'd both found ourselves trapped under rubble caused by the explosions. A movement from Heero, leaning against the wall at the end of his bed, distracted me and I looked to my lover and saw a puzzled look on his face.

"What do you mean?" Brian Weber asked. "How did he help you?"

"I radioed for help but I couldn't raise either he or Tomas," I told him. "I was trapped, scared and freezing my ass off. I really didn't think I was gonna make it. I even prayed, something I only do when I'm scared shitless. When your father's voice came over the walking talkie I was so relieved that I could have wept. He said he was trapped on the first floor but that he was alright." Looking into the older man's eyes I added, "He was there for me, Brian, telling me I wasn't alone and about the rescue units that were coming and encouraging me to hold on. He even told me to turn on my flashlight so they could find me under the rubble. I couldn't find it until Limpy Joe showed up and handed it to me before rushing off to get help. It's hard to believe your dad is gone," I said with true remorse. "He sounded so close and his voice so clear that he didn't even sound as if he were wounded. I'm very sorry for your loss, Brian."

Brian Weber looked confused, and he turned his head to silently confer with Heero, who in turn looked at me, concerned. "What?" I asked, confused by their actions.

"Duo," Heero moved closer to the bed. "I think that your memory might be faulty. Are you certain of this conversation you had with Mr. Weber?"

Frowning, I nodded. I couldn't figure out what was going on.

"I think you must be confused, Mr. Maxwell," Brian Weber said as gently as possible.

"No, I'm pretty sure things happened just as I told you."

"Duo, that impossible," Heero stated calmly.

"Why?"

"Because Charles Weber died instantly. The RPG came through the front window and hit the wall just above him. He was buried under the rubble. If that didn't kill him, the shrapnel and explosive would have."

Shaking my head, certain that things had happened just as I stated, I answered, "No, that can't be right. I definitely talked to him on the radio. I know it wasn't a dream or a hallucination. He talked to me, and I didn't even know his last name until then. If I didn't talk to him, how would I have known his name?"

Again Heero and Mr. Weber exchanged a puzzled look. Then my Japanese lover moved to the drawer at the bottom of my bedside table where he pulled out a plastic bag. Removing its contents, he held up what looked to be a smashed walkie talkie, completely unusable. "This was in your hand when we finally got to you," he said, putting the damaged silver box into my right hand.

Bringing it closer for examination, I studied it and wondered what the hell was going on? The walkie talkie was barely held together, its circuit board was smashed and broken in places. I turned it on its side to see that the button used for talking was completely obliterated. There was no way I could have depressed it. "I don't understand." I looked from the pieces of plastic in my hand to Heero's intense face. "I know I talked to Chuck and that he talked back to me."

Heero then drew out of the bag what looked to be a flashlight, the head of it was smashed flat, the light bulb completely shattered. "We found this near your head," he said. "I know I saw a light coming from the space you were in, it led us right to you. But it went out just as we reached you."

"Heero," I whispered, my eyes widening. "I'm not sure what's going on here, but I know that I talked to Chuck, that he comforted me when I was scared and he told me his name and to turn my flashlight on. I couldn't find it at first, but then Limpy Joe showed up, found it and gave it to me before he went for help. I didn't imagine it, did I?"

"Limpy Joe? The homeless man that hangs out by headquarters?" Heero asked. After getting a nod from me that it was the same man he was referring to, Heero said, "We found him across the street with his throat slit. We believe he may have stumbled onto the terrorists and they killed him moments before the attack. He had two twenty credit bills in his hand."

With a look of worry on the faces of both men, I suddenly felt desperate to prove that I hadn't imagine everything, so I continued speaking while anxiously looking from Heero to Brian Weber. "Chuck told me to tell you that he was proud of you, Brian, that your wife, Ann, was the best decision you'd ever made in your life and that he would be watching over..." I paused for moment to remember the name of the man's children. "Tim and... Tina?"

"Tia," Mr. Weber answered looking shell-shocked, a tone of disbelief in his voice.

"Are those the names of your family?"

The man nodded.

"Are you sure he didn't tell you his last name and about his son's family before the attack?" Heero picked up my uninjured hand and held it firmly in his own hand, not caring what the other man in the room thought.

"I'm positive." My voice was trembling at the implication of the whole conversation.

There was silence in the room as the other two men tried to come up with some explanation for what I'd just told them. Brian Weber looked thoughtful, going over possibilities in his mind while Heero, no doubt, wondered if I hadn't imagined the whole incident as a way to cope with my fear, but that didn't answer the question about how I knew Brian Weber's family's names.

At first, I thought that I might be going crazy, but then I remembered my heartfelt prayer at midnight, at the moment when Christmas Eve became Christmas Day and asked for a miracle, praying that I'd survive for the benefit of Heero and our friends and that I'd not be left alone to suffer or die in the cold and dark.

And suddenly I knew.

"He stayed behind to be with me until help came," I said softly, and a warm feeling that centered in my chest seemed to validate my theory the moment the words came from my lips. Raising my eyes to meet Heero's concerned and doubting ones I asked, "How else could I know his last name or those of Brian's family? How could you have seen the light that helped you to find me? You said you saw it, how do you explain that? It was a Christmas miracle, Heero, pure and simple. I asked Chuck if he believed in God and he answered me saying, 'Yes, now more than ever.' Heero..." Any other words I wanted to say were choked off as understanding came to me that my prayer had been granted in my most desperate hour. Suddenly it didn't matter to me if Heero or Brian Weber or anyone else believed me, because I knew the truth.

"I believe you." Heero and I both looked up to the older man who had spoken . Brian Weber's eyes were staring at the battered equipment Heero had held up moments before to disprove my claim of the deceased security guard's vocal help. "I've never been an avid church goer," the man continued with apparent emotion. "But somehow I know what you're saying is true."

I managed to give him a small smile of gratitude and then there didn't seem to be a need for any further words. What was there to say after such a revelation? After a few non-communicative moments, Mr. Weber excused himself with a quiet word of thanks and thoughtfully left the hospital room. I felt relieved and then guilty that the man was gone; but I was bone weary and just wanted to be near Heero, my anchor.

"Does this change things between us?" Heero asked out of the blue and sounding unusually uncertain, causing me to turn my head to regard him. "This is a religious thing and I know our relationship isn't in accordance with many religions beliefs."

Shaking my head, I replied, "I'm alive because I prayed to be spared for your sake, Heero. I'm not about to squander the answer I was given to that prayer by letting go of you. I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the rest of our lives."

Heero paused then drew two small boxes out of his pocket. I recognized one of them as my Christmas gift to him, a ring that I hoped would symbolize our life-long commitment to each other. Heero opened the other box, the one I hadn't seen before, and out of it he pulled an almost identical gift and held it between his fingers to display the silver ring to me. "Be mine?" he asked with a slight, one-sided quirk to his lips and a glint of hope in his eyes. I grinned in response, realizing the few short and to the point words were so typically Heero.

With a returning grin and a nod of my head to the other box in his hand, I motioned for him to open it. Funny how our minds are so much alike, I thought, as Heero pulled out the second titanium ring. "'Fraid it's gonna be a while before I can walk down the aisle," I said with a woeful glance at my cast limbs.

Heero gave me a dismissive snort and a wicked smile. "Who says you have to walk, or for that matter, be standing?" he asked, bringing his face closer to mine, his eyes as bright as the future before us and sparking with mischief. "Besides, I kind of like you helpless... on your back... in bed."

Laughing hurt, I quickly discovered.

After the pain finally subsided we thoughtfully put our rings on each other's finger, though mine had to go on my right hand temporarily instead of the left because of the cast and swollen fingers. Without speaking of it, we both knew the rings symbolized our love and commitment to each other and our every intention of making our relationship legal as soon as possible. I quickly decided to leave the details of that up to Heero as I was about to be too preoccupied to think of anything other than how to calm my heretofore sleeping nether regions with Heero looking at me the way he was now. I had an idea that if laughing hurt, getting aroused was going to hurt a whole hell of a lot more.

When the nurse walked into the room a moment later, she was witness to the two familiar young men engaged in a deep, passionate kiss. She forced back the urge to tell them to be careful, to heed the bedridden young man's wounds. She paused, regarding them a moment longer and noting to herself that the patient certainly wasn't complaining about the embrace. So instead of issuing a warning, she merely smiled and quietly shut the door behind her as she left the room to give them a few moments of privacy, thinking to herself that the New Year was certainly starting out in an interesting way.

Finished 12-23-04


End file.
